


You have me, always

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018)
Genre: 5 + 1, Could be both, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Tears, basically Brian being sad and Roger being a helpful sweetheart, romantic or not up to interpretation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 08:10:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16740301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: 5 times Brian was sad and depressed and Roger helped him out + 1 time when Roger was sad and Brian returned the favor.Based very much on the movie.First one set in Smile times, the rest during unspecified times in the 1970s.Lots of tears, comfort and closeness.





	You have me, always

1.

 

Brian was an unusual man. Contemplative, some would say, calm and quiet for a wannabe rockstar. He had his moments of rage and excitement like every other guy, of course, but he had a tendency more to cool down the fights than be the one starting them. This introspection and contemplation sometimes led to him overthinking things, making himself...well, for lack of a better word, sad.

His studies were interesting and good, but he felt they weren't enough. Felt that he needed more in his life than that, that it wasn't as fulfilling as it should be. Which was not fair, he was celebrated for his intelligence and he was learning a lot about something that he found profoundly interesting, so really, it should have been enough. There shouldn't have been need for anything else.

But there was.

With the band there was a similar feeling. They were good, but they weren't good enough. They needed to polish their sound more, they needed more strength in their performance. They could use with more... variety in the lyrics, with more colours, with something better. More performances, more soul, something that would catch viewers attention. They needed to be better, he wanted them to be better. But they didn't always get along. Brian had the slight suspicion that occasionally Tim thought himself better that his bandmates. That he thought of Smile as his way to get in his rightful star place, away from the likes of him and Roger.

He sighed. Some days, everything felt wrong. Everything felt like it was only going to go worse and worse and worse. There was no answer, no help. Today was one of those days. He sighed again, trying not to let dread take over him. And then there was a voice.

“BRIAAAAAAAAN! Brian!! We have five more gigs booked! Five more, can you believe it? Yes, it's still just pubs and some uni gigs, but who knows, maybe someone from a record company or something will be there! And you know who will be there no doubt? La-la-ladies!”

Roger, of course. Roger was a force of nature, full of life, full of energy and joy. Sure, he may not be the most refined person in the world, but he was always there when needed. And he knew him well.

“You all right, Bri?”

Brian often wondered why the two of them had become such good friends, being so different. Roger was explosive, he could get angry and get into fights or throw stuff at the drop of a hat. Brian wasn't like that – he liked to think things through, find solutions to problems that didn't involve the destruction of anything.

But still, Roger was one of his best friends, and somebody that cared about him.

“Sure. Five gigs, huh? Sounds good.”

“No, no, no, you're getting into one of your moods, and I won't allow it! Let me take your mind off... whatever it is.There's a new pub...”

“Roger...”

“Hush, you're coming with me and having a great time, like it or not.”

Brian smiled for the first time that day. Maybe a night out with Roger was exactly what he needed.

 

 

2.

 

He couldn't finish this song. And he wasn't even convinced it was any good. Brian was alone at night, in the middle of small hours of it and he simply couldn't find any words, couldn't fix anything. It wasn't good, it wasn't fun, it wasn't the level of thing the others had come to expect from him. Brian himself didn't even like it.

But he'd spent the whole night thinking about it and writing it, and it was... weak. The verses weren't good, and he didn't get what he was trying to say, if anything. It was messy. Where was the message? Where the force? He didn't know what music should go with it, because the melody he'd thought before didn't seem to fit anymore.... The night was unfriendly and offered no help.

There were tears threatening to fall from his eyes. Brian felt tired, and stupid, and hopeless. He technically knew that this was merely a small thing, nothing to worry about. He knew that objectively his life was good and that he was a valued member of the band, and that not everything he did would turn out to be good, but... He felt awful about this, wanted to change it, make it something better. Save the night, save the song – then he'd be able to sleep, and continue existing. Move on. Wipe these tears without having any more coming.

But he was stuck, and everything he tried felt even worse than the previous one. Made him more desperate. He wanted to move on, but felt it impossible to even get up from that chair. He closed his eyes, put his hands on top of them, _“think, think, think think!”_ but he couldn't think. Just couldn't.

“Hey.” There was a voice behind him.

Brian wasn't even surprised that the blond was still up. Roger's sleeping habits could be...sketchy. The drummer took a seat next to his friend, in front of that table. He was eating an apple.

“Are you working on something?”

Roger's blue eyes were curious and kind, and Brian decided to get out of his misery and reply.

“I cannot... finish, I cannot make it good. There's a song here somewhere, and I want to get it done tonight, I...”

“You want me to take a look? I know I may not be as good a songwriter as you or Fred, but maybe I can give you some ideas.”

Great, now Brian felt bad. He knew what a sensitive guy Roger was and still laughed at his song. Is that what a good friend would do? Roger seemed unphased as he read the lyrics and ate his apple.

“Maybe you could repeat this bit, two or three times? It seems to be the most important one, right? Ohh, and you could put a drum solo afterwards.”

Brian smiled.

“You're always putting drum solos everywhere.”

“Because we don't have nearly enough!” Roger said, and how could he be so awake at this time of night? “And then you go back to the lyrics with, you know... renewed energy.”

“That's...actually not a bad idea.”

Yeah, it still needed work, but the repeating made more clear what the song was about, what it should be focusing on. And a drum solo was something that wouldn't have occurred to him, but made it...bigger, stronger, yeah. He would have to talk to Roger about it, but they could something about it. Save it, and the night.

“You want to watch some telly?” Roger asked, finishing his apple, that usual innocent expression on his page. “I don't even know if there'll be anything on.”

Brian smiled, casually asked what his friend was doing up so late.

The next morning, John found them both asleep in the sofa, on top of each other, and smiled to himself.

 

3.

 

Brian had been sick for a while and it got so bad that he was admitted to the hospital. He didn't exactly know what was wrong, but he knew it wasn't anything minor. He could feel that whatever it was, it would take a while a long while until he was back on his feet again.

He knew he was supposed to be worrying about his health first and foremost, but they had a tour coming, and he couldn't fail the guys, he couldn't fail the fans, he couldn't let down everyone. But he was going to, and he didn't know what would happen... He trusted these guys not to automatically replace him, but.... Sometimes... It was easy to overthink things, imagine everything going downhill.

Also the prospect of a long recovery was not a pleasant one. Brian liked doing things, being productive, moving around. Not this. Not hospital beds. Where he could hardly even think.

There was a noise, and Brian looked around.

Roger was sprawled in an armchair next to the bed, half asleep, moving around.

“Rog? What are you doing here, I thought you went home! Visiting hours don't start until... two hours, how are you even here?”

Roger's sleepy face grinned.

“Convinced a nurse.”

“Of course you did.”

“It felt so lonely leaving you here alone.” Roger said, rubbing his eyes and stretched a bit. “I kind of regret it now, that chair was so uncomfortable I very much considered throwing you off the bed to get in.”

Brian, drew a small smile and moved to the left corner, signaling the empty half.

“You can join me for a bit, if you want.”

Roger just made a “why not” gesture and lay next to him.

“Ooooh, this is something else.” Roger said, with his hands under his head. “That chair was doing bad things to my back.”

They were in silence for a while until Roger broke it. He seemed... uncharacteristically concerned.

“You'll be okay, won't you, Bri?”

“Of course. Of course. But if I can't go on tour...”

“We'll wait for you. Everybody will wait. Just... don't be sick too long, ok? Who's going to break our fights if you're not there? It's too much pressure on poor Deaky.”

“Ok, don't worry. For you.”

Roger fell asleep shortly after and looking at him, and even in that awful situation, Brian felt lucky.

 

4.

 

Brian simply wasn't in the mood for anything, much less talking to people without snapping at them. He was in no mood to be good company. He didn't want to go out, face the world and the people, he wanted to be alone, alone forever. The others came and he didn't know how to ask them to please go away without being rude. Luckily, he didn't have to.

“We should probably go.” Roger said, voicing Brian's thoughts. “I don't think there's much we can do here. But Brian, if there's anything you need, anything we can do, call, ok? The moment you're ready.”

The other two complained a bit, but Roger convinced them that it was better like this.

The next day, after a bath and a walk and some food, Brian felt much better, much more whole. One of the first things he did was call his friend.

“Thank you for yesterday.”

“Hey, you've put up with all my terrible episodes of anger and just me... being awful. You deserve your peace and quiet and much more.”

“You know what, Roger? Even with your fits and anger... I still hope that forty years from now, I'll still have you as a friend.”

“I am so glad this is a phone conversation so you can't see me blushing!”

Brian laughed as he hung up the phone. Today would be a better day.

 

5.

 

Everything was falling apart around him, and Brian wanted to... stop everything. He didn't want to get up, he didn't want to talk he didn't want to play. This one the worst feeling possible, the bottom of the barrel, the last... The last moments.

He was crying, as he'd been crying for a good deal of the last week. And he didn't want anyone to try and fix things, because it was going to be hard, fixing everything that was broken, it was going to take work and effort and time... No. No more.

He had weathered enough storms, been strong for a long enough time. Now he wanted to.... He didn't know what he wanted, but the only thing he felt he could do was keep crying in that sofa. The more he thought about things the more he cried.

When Roger came, he didn't clean his apartment like others had done, making him feel about the state of things and the fact that others were doing something that was his job. He didn't comment on the apartment either, or on the state of his face. Didn't tell him about how much he was worrying the others, because how exactly would that help Brian?

Roger just on the floor, next to the sofa, and listened.

“Tell me what's wrong. I won't... propose solutions if you don't want to, I'll just listen. All I'm asking you is to let me know. To let me listen why you're like this, let me know what's the problem.”

Roger listened, and as Brian finished ordering his thoughts and recounting what making him like this. There was a very long embrace, and for a moment, there was the tiniest hope that at some point things could go right again. It was only a start, but maybe it was the start he needed.

“You can always count on me, ok? Don't forget.” Roger said, serious, genuine.

Brian nodded, grateful. Sometimes a friendly ear was more important than anything else in the world.

 

+1

The journalist had been exceptionally rude and mean. When Roger called him out on it, he became poisonous against the drummer, saying all sorts of hurtful while disguising them as questions, or things the readers are interested in. They'd all been outraged, in fact right in that moment Freddie was urging Paul to get him the man's boss, to “have a few words”.

They were used to rude journalists, to irrelevant questions, but this felt like a personal attack, and it was not acceptale. They'd been touring for so long, writing, recording, doing promotion... And they had been accepting to talk after a concert, even if they were incredibly exhausted, and this was the thanks they got. Not cool.

Brian went to look for Roger, because he was worried about him. He'd played it cool in the interview, but he knew that criticism affected him, especially in a moment like this after playing, when emotions were higher than usual. When he found him, Roger dismissed him, said that he was ok. But Brian knew he was not – and knew Roger wouldn't admit it to anyone else.

Roger's lower lip was trembling, and his eyes were bright. It had been a long week, and this was just the cherry on top.

Brian just wordlessly embraced his friend and Roger held on to him, with force. They stayed like that until Rogel broke down, crying into Brian's shirt. Brian hushed him and whispered soothing words.

“You do know that none of what he said was true, right? You are an amazing drummer and you have a unique singing voice. You're as much a reason for Queen's success as Freddie or me.”

“No... it's not...” Roger tried to say

“And you've written nice things, too. Drowse is lovely.”

“Do you... do you like it?”

“I love it. It's the perfect amount of melancholy.”

They stayed like that for a while. Embraced for a bit, Brian reassured his friend for all the time he'd received those reassurances, for all the good times they had together. Because they loved each other, in one way or another, because they were an important part of each other lives.

And there were no negative thoughts, no sad moods, and no tears that would ever break that bond.

They had each other, always.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked. Thanks for reading!
> 
> You know you want to comment!


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